Keeping Theives Busy
by Santana1
Summary: Eliot is not happy with Winter approaching.


Authors notes: Hi all! This is the first thing that I've written in several months. My mom passed away on 3/1/10 and I haven't felt like doing much of anything. This sort of popped up…at least the first line of it, and the rest of the story just sort of wrote itself. I was just along for the ride. I guess you could say that this is basically an exercise in getting the juices flowing, but I hope you like it anyway.

Keeping Thieves Busy

By: Santana

Standing silently in the doorway of his old farmhouse, Eliot Spencer watched as geese, from the lake, flew over head. They were making their way to their nests to bed down for the night. He stood there watching, until their honks and calls were barely audible. Finally shutting the door, he made his way to the fireplace to stoke the dwindling fire back to a modest roar and to add another log in the process. He rubbed his hands together briskly, before holding them in front of the fire, feeling its warmth radiate into the room, to warm him not only physically but mentally as well.

The nights were getting colder and the sun seemed to be setting earlier. He hated this time of year. It was as if the time he used for enjoying his horses, and working outside completing odd chores, had been stolen from him. He knew his lack of outdoor time was putting him a bad mood, which he carried with him to the office. His scowl seemed to be a permanent fixture of late.

Parker had been skirting around him all week, and he was starting to feel the loss of her constant frenzy and insanity…though he would never admit it out loud. Hardison tried to ignore him as much as possible, but every once in a while, the hitter would catch a concerned glance being shared by the two younger members of the team. He wasn't too worried about what Nate thought about his attitude. The older man seemed to be so lost in his liquor more times than not, to even notice what his team was up to…let alone the round of bourbon he was on. And Sophie? Well, Sophie wasn't around anymore, which was part of the reason Nate had crawled further into the bottle.

Cracking his knuckles, trying to scratch an itch that couldn't be appeased; Eliot began pacing back and forth in the leaving room. Granted this was his first winter here on the farm, but it wasn't his first on a farm. Although it had been a while, he knew that there had to be something that he would do as a kid to keep him busy and out of trouble. Today, they would label him as ADHD, back then his ma and pa just said he was being a boy, always into something…most of time it was something that he shouldn't be.

His thoughts took him back in time, as he stopped pacing and stood staring into a fire he could no longer see. Its image was replaced by an old kitchen, clean and tidy, but with things in need of repair from years of use. His mom walked by, wiping her hands on her apron before checking the old stove to see how her homemade bread was coming along. She was dressed in faded jeans, a red button up shirt and a white apron that seemed to be covered in enough flour to bake another loaf of bread. Her ebony hair was pulled neatly into a braid that fell half way down her back, and her tan face was framed by flour coated wisps that refused to stay back with the rest of her hair. Her dark almond shaped eyes twinkled when she smiled, and she always seemed to be doing that when he was around. In his mind, she was the most beautiful mom in the whole world.

On the table was fresh butter, that he had helped her churn and form. The wheat stem on the top was his doing. He had become handy with the design using an old wooden spoon. A jar of molasses sat beside the butter. He couldn't wait to mix the two items together and sop hot biscuits in the mixture. There was no better breakfast in his opinion.

"Are you going to just stand there or are you going to help me?" His ma asked, the smile on her face told young Eliot that she wasn't angry with him.

"I'm gonna help ma." He said, the sound of his young voice sounding strange in his mind. He could remember pushing a chair to the counter to give himself more height. She would slip an apron over his head, and adjust it so that it fit his small frame before tying it off in the back. He looked at the items lying about on the counter then up at his mom. "What're we makin'?" He asked, his eyes large and blue in his small face. Lightening flashed in the window in front of him and thunder soon followed. The boom shook Eliot slightly, but it was quickly forgotten after a good hug from his mother, and a pat on the head.

"Pa's birthday is tomorrow, how about we make him a cake." With the rain coming down outside, they wouldn't be able to work the fields, so she would always try to catch up on the indoor chores as much as possible. She had gotten up early and had done most of the cleaning before the children awoke, but soon the smell of bread baking had Eliot padding down the hallway looking for her. Out of all of her children, he was the one who loved to help her in the kitchen. He seemed to calm down when they were cooking together, so she tried to let him help as much as possible, especially when his pa wasn't around. Today she was getting her baking done, a chore that seemed never ending with so many mouths to feed.

"What kind?" He asked, pulling the mixing bowl, and a wooden spoon, towards himself.

His mother smiled at the action. "I think a yellow cake with chocolate icing."

Eliot licked his lips. "Peaches too?" He loved peach juice on his cake. It made for a sloppy mess by the time he was done playing with it, but when finished, he never left a crumb on his plate.

Ruffling his curly brown hair, "I think we can manage that."

The memory flitted away and the child's happy giggles were replaced by the crackle of the fire and something else….a knock on the door.

Making his way across the room, he opened the door to find a shivering Parker on the other side. "I'm bored." She said, pushing past him and heading straight to the fire place to warm up.

"Come on in…make yourself at home." Eliot mumbled, as he shut the door. "What are you doing here Parker?"

She turned from the fireplace just long enough to narrow her eyes at him. "I…am…bored." Finally finished with the fire, she turned and plopped on the leather couch, kicking her converse off before tucking her feet neatly beneath her. At Eliot's glare, she said, "You said 'make yourself at home'. I heard you mumbling."

Rolling his eyes, Eliot shifted a bit and crossed his arms over his chest. He silently counted to three but before he could give her a piece of his mind, she started rambling in true Parker fashion.

"Fine…Fine…Alec is all busy with his computer…and well, you know what Nate's doing." She gestured as if she were tipping a bottle towards her mouth, then screwed her face up in disgust. "I tried calling Sophie but she can't talk to me….she has a 'thing' that she has to go to in Paris…or was it Rome….I'm not sure. Anyways, that leaves you. So…What are we going to do?"

"Parker…I'm really not in the mood right now."

"About that…what's up with you? Never mind, I really don't care…I don't like it and I want you to stop….There, now that that's settled, what are 'we' going to do?"

He was sure that a migraine was starting; a slow thud was developing behind his eyes, along with the twitch in his left eye, which was born from trying so hard to control his anger. He was almost positive that Parker wasn't going to do this insanity thing all alone and that she was determined to drag him kicking and screaming with her. With that in mind, Eliot didn't know if he wanted to shoot her or pull his hair out. He liked his hair, and shooting Parker would surely break a few laws….if they found the body…but then again, it would surely be justifiable due to self preservation…or maybe he could plead temporary insanity…

Sighing heavily he stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out a way to keep the young thief busy, after all, it would be the only way that either of them would be happy. As if in answer, lightening flashed outside and thunder soon followed with a loud crack, causing Parker to shiver and her eyes to widen. Eliot's expression softened, as he said in a growl, "Come on, let's make a cake." Before he could take a step towards the kitchen, Parker rushed passed him.

"What kind? Chocolate? I like chocolate…or strawberry…strawberry is good too….maybe strawberry with chocolate icing….mmmmmmm….." The thief called over her shoulder while her pony tail swung wildly in contrast to her graceful steps.

Eliot stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. "Thanks ma. You always know what I need." He whispered. Entering the kitchen he found Parker perched on the cabinet with a mixing bowl in her lap, a wooden spoon in hand and a smile on her face.

Maybe the winter months wouldn't be so bad after all.

The End.


End file.
